Harry Potter and the Fruits of the Devil
by Umodin
Summary: In the Wizarding World, the Devil's Fruits are looked upon in awe. The Zoan, which turns a man into an animal, and the Paramecia, which cannot be described in just a few words. Yet, there are stories of a third type of fruit, one that gives power over the forces of nature; the Logia.


The Chamber of Secrets was a long and dimly lit place, Harry noted. There were towering stone pillars, entwined with carved serpents that stretched far into the shadowed ceiling overhead. Harry squinted, but his glasses were foggy and his sight already poor and he could not make out how high the ceiling truly was. In truth, it made him feel like a small bug.

Heart beating fast, Harry made his way towards the column rows, gripping his wand with white knuckles. Ron was behind him, rocks had collapsed and separated the pair, and Harry would bet his last Galleon that his ginger haired friend wasn't going to catch up. Every footstep Harry made echoed in the chamber, making him sound like a veritable giant, and most likely warning the Heir of Slytherin that he was approaching. A sad thing that, Harry was a Gryffindor to the core, but even he understood that he beyond his depth and needed every advantage he could find.

The pillared columns were like a maze, the only sign that he was going the right was the sound of flowing water. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. Hermione went through the trouble of finding out the monster was a Basilisk, and Harry had no intention to die so close to Myrtles washroom. She would never let him rest.

He drew level with the last pair of pillars at last, and came upon the source of the echoing sound. A grand room, walled with four faces carved in the likeness of Salazar Slytherin's portrait all had their mouths open, water from what Harry presumed to be the Black Lake was streaming out. It reminded Harry of a bleak and disturbing version of the water fountain from the zoo nearly two years ago, just before he received his first Hogwarts letter.

In the middle of the room of carved stone was a figure, facedown, clothed in mottled black robes and featured with flaming red hair.

" _Ginny!_ " Harry cried out. He made a dash to her prone form and dropped to his knees. Her face was white as Hedwig's feathers, and her skin was cold. Yet, her eyes were closed, so she couldn't have been petrified.

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled helplessly from side to side. Harry noticed something bulky in her robes, and dug in, ignoring the pink of his cheeks. He pulled out a familiar black book, and looked at it in shocked confusion.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees, clutching both the book and his wand like a lifeline.

A tall, black haired boy was leaning on a wall, watching Ginny with barely hidden interest. Harry couldn't tell if it was his sight playing tricks on him, but the boy looked blurred around the edges. But Harry recognized the boy, especially with the book in hand.

" _Tom Riddle?_ "

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off of Ginny's prone body.

"What do you mean she won't wake?" Harry asked pitiably. "She's not –?"

"Dead? No, she's still alive. But only just."

Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly. Tom didn't seem like any ghost he knew of, but Harry hadn't been at Hogwarts for two years, and knew that there was much he didn't know.

"Not as such, but close." Tom said quietly. "I am… I am a memory. Preserved in that diary for fifty years." He then withdrew a wand Harry hadn't yet seen, and made a movement Harry didn't know.

Harry looked down at the diary in his hand, and watched helplessly as the book slipped from his grasp and soared across the room, into Tom's waiting arms. Yet, the book just passed through Tom's body, hitting the wall with a slap and falling to the floor.

"Hm," Tom hummed. "It seems I cannot hold more than one thing at a time in this form. Even at my age, I learn something new."

"What's going on Tom?" Harry asked, suddenly aware of the fact that they were the only three in the room. "Why won't Ginny wake? Where's the basilisk?"

"Ah! You know of the basilisk? I suppose you would, Ginny was quite open in her assessment of your friend; Granger I believe was her name. Such a talent for research. Though the clues I left could have been discovered by anybody that looked properly."

Harry felt himself grow more and more uncertain as Tom spoke. His praise of Hermione was not like that of a teacher giving her house points, but sounded more like a person that discovered something new about their pet.

"Tom, we've got to go! If the basilisk comes –"

"Oh, she's already here." Tom said airily. "Yes, I was quite surprised it turned out to be a basilisk myself, but it was a pleasant change of pace. Salazar Slytherin truly did deserve all the praise in the world."

"What do you mean?"

Tom's smile grew wistful, nostalgic even. "I suppose a small lesson wouldn't matter, the more time spent the better. Tell me Harry; are you familiar with the Fruits of the Devil?"

Harry knew of them, as did everybody else. They were mentioned in his very first Transfiguration class, when Professor McGonagall turned from a cat to human at the start of the lecture.

Harry thought that she had been able to turn into a cat through magic, and had asked about it after class; so enamored by magic that he was willing to talk to a teacher outside of class. Professor McGonagall had praised his desire to learn, and had then told him that while it was possible to use magic to turn into an animal, what she did was something far rarer. She said she had consumed a Devil's Fruit, an item that allowed rare powers to any that ate of them.

"Professor McGonagall mentioned it. She said she ate a fruit that let her turn into a cat."

"Yes, Minerva; she was a first year when I was a fifth year I believe. Indeed, she had been lucky enough to eat a Zoan sometime in her twenties. But, you know so _little_ Harry, of the wonder that is the Devil's Fruit."

Tom seemed inordinately happy to speak of these. Harry didn't know much about the fruits, other than that you could turn into an animal if you ate one.

"You see, the Devil's Fruits were originally called the Fruits of Eden. It is unknown where they came from, but their power is unmatched. When the Vikings began their raids, they called these fruits the Devil's Fruit, for they came with a price. Should a person eat one of these fruits, they will forever lose the ability to swim. Vikings viewed swimming as a matter of necessity in their culture, the raiders did at any rate, and anything that made it so they couldn't swim was heresy of the highest level."

Harry kept shaking Ginny, only half listening to Tom. It might have been interesting, but Harry had no interest at the moment. He had a friend who looked to be on death's door to take care of.

Tom didn't seem to notice or care that Harry wasn't listening, and continued to speak in any case. "There are two types of Devil Fruits; the Zoan, which turns a person into an animal, and the Paramecia, which gives unusual and often difficult to comprehend abilities. Should a person eat a Devil Fruit, they cannot consume another; the powers that the fruits hold would fight for dominance in the body and kill the host.

"They are rare, but are quite easy to differentiate from other fruits. A spiral pattern will always be prominent on the fruit and often colors that wouldn't be found in actual fruits, such as a neon green or a slate grey."

"Tom, we _need_ to help Ginny." Harry said.

"Do not interrupt me, Harry Potter. Stories need to be told properly."

"Tom, _please._ " Harry begged.

"Where was I… Ah! Yes. I suppose it matters little, I'll just skip to where the basilisk comes into play. You see, the Founders of Hogwarts had all consumed Zoan fruits. Ravenclaw became an eagle, Hufflepuff became a badger, Gryffindor became a lion and Slytherin became a snake. But, they wanted more. The fruits they consumed brought them together, but they had their own personal interests. Ravenclaw wanted to learn everything in the world, Hufflepuff wanted the ability to heal others from the brink of death, Gryffindor was obsessed with fire like a common caveman and Slytherin wanted to live forever."

The thought of living forever struck Harry in a way he wouldn't have expected. Last year, Voldemort had come to the school, possessing a teacher, in search of the Philosopher's Stone.

"When I was a student at Hogwarts, I happened upon this chamber, and found the hidden vault of Salazar Slytherin. There was nothing of value in the form of gold or gems, but the knowledge I found… Salazar had collected more Devils Fruits in his lifetime, and left two in his vault. They were labelled in ability, and both were wondrous; one a Paramecia and one a Zoan. I ate the Paramecia, but I truly desired the raw power the Zoan had, and then, I came up with a grand plan.

"If I could not have two fruits in one body, then I would simply need two bodies."

Something was niggling at the back of Harry's head. That didn't sound right, that didn't sound possible. It didn't sound _right_.

But didn't Voldemort do that last year, in search of the Philosopher's Stone?

"I searched and searched and finally found a way to preserve my memory." Tom said. "The plan was simple, I would give my diary to somebody, and that somebody would write and write and _write_ in it, until I was able to take over the body. Only, things didn't go as planned. I was a just memory, and my origin felt that I was too fragile to keep out of sight, too important. I was right of course, but perhaps my origin should have kept me in sight when I had a body of my own. After a time he gifted my diary to a family he trusted, and told them to keep hold of it until it was time."

Harry had already determined that Tom was not as he was portrayed to be, and attacked.

" _Expelliarmus!"_

Tom lazily batted the spell away, somehow looking both excited and bored all the same. "Ah, you're starting to learn. Good, good. I've always enjoyed teaching. But, as I said earlier, _stories need to be told properly._ "

With another wave of his wand, Harry found his hand devoid of his own holly and phoenix feather wand. It was a sickening feeling as it clattered against the wall. Harry hated to be parted from his wand, even when he practiced the disarming charm with Hermione.

"I trust there will be no more interruptions? No? Good! Yes, the family my diary was trusted to had been loyal for a long time. Two generations I was held by them, and finally I was let loose. My origin had died, sad as it is, and their oaths were less important. I believe the diary was sent away so that uncomfortable questions wouldn't be asked.

"Then this girl, Ginny, began to write to me. She had found me in her cauldron and didn't know how I got there. I did not know either, though I have my suspicions. For months and months she'd been writing in it, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes, how her brothers _tease_ her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" – Riddles eyes glinted – "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her."

Tom had never given Harry his full attention until then. He had been keeping his sights on Ginny for most of the time he talked, but now Harry was in his sights. Toms grey eyes had never seemed so alive, so cruel. There was an almost hungry look to them.

"It's quite boring having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven year old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic. I treated her as if she were the only thing that mattered. Ginny _loved_ me. _No one's ever understood my like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary_."

Tom laughed coldly, and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"The more Ginny wrote, the more she poured out her soul to me, I grew stronger. The stronger I grew, the more I was able to influence her. But, she wouldn't trust me unless I trusted her with something in turn. All people born into the magical world know of the Devil's Fruits, and they see them as more valuable than gold. I told her I knew where one was, in Hogwarts. Ginny wanted it badly, to eat of the Devil's Fruit is to become popular, to become famous, to become _special._ I led her to the Chamber and showed her the fruit, and when she ate of it she became _mine_."

Tom then put his wand down on the floor and grabbed the diary. Opening it, he hissed.

" _Wake up Ginny."_

Ginny seemed to convulse from underneath Harry, and he jumped away as he skin turned to scales. Her hair fell into her body, and she grew. Her arms and legs formed into one straight form and she what once was Ginny Weasley turned into a monstrous thing.

An enormous serpent with bright, poisonous green scales took form. Thick as an oak tree, Ginny raised herself high in the air and her great blunt head lolled in a daze. Her eyes were closed, and Harry knew that should she open them his death would be nigh.

"I have heard much of you from my dearest Ginny, Harry Potter. I have many questions for you.

"Like what?" Harry spat, fists clenched hard enough for his nails to break skin. The puncture in his palms took the fear he felt away from Ginny as he focused on his pain.

"Well," Tom said, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that you, a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent, managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's power was destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped?" Harry said slowly, taking in the sight of Toms eyes gleaming a hungry red. "Voldemort was after your time."

Tom took the time to gently put the diary down, which made Ginny's basilisk form flop down and nearly crush Harry, and he picked up his wand once more. He held it aloft and began to trace it in the air, writing three flaming words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He waved the wand once more and the letters rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but froze as he heard something from afar. Music began to echo from the other end of the chamber. Tom whirled around to stare down the hall. The music was growing louder. It was spine-tingling and unearthly, a soprano that made Harry feel relaxed and safe.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its song into the vaulted ceiling. Its golden tail was as long as a peacock's and its gleaming golden talons were gripping a ragged bundle. The bird flew straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying right on Harry's head, and landed on his shoulder.

"That's a phoenix," Tom said, staring shrewdly at the bird.

"Fawkes?" Harry asked, earning an uplifting chirp from the magical bird.

Tom began to laugh mockingly, "Your salvation is a bird and the Sorting Hat? This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

 _Yes_ , Harry thought. Fawkes' song made any fear he felt go away. Like he was a new person.

Adjusting the Sorting Hat so that it sat properly on his head, Harry glared at Tom.

"Well, far be it from me to keep you from your own demise. My curiosity is a simple thing, and I find my desire to live once more greater than learning how you defeated my origin." Tom said, mockingly taking a bow. He dropped his wand once more and reached for the diary.

Harry knew what was next. Wandless and disadvantaged, Tom had the ability to cut him down where he stood. Clenching his eyes shut, Harry ran through the columns of the Chamber of Secrets.

Fawkes must have brought the Sorting Hat for something. What it was, Harry didn't know, but he could only plead to find out.

 _Help me!_ Harry thought as he fled, hearing Ginny's basilisk form beginning to move. _Please help me._

There was no answer. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.

Something soft and squishy thudded onto the top of Harry's head, causing him to jerk his eyes open. He grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt a strangely patterned sphere of some sort. Pulling it out, he felt his eyes widen.

It was orange like a peach, and had a stem the curved awkwardly. There were ripples all along the fruit, patterned with swirls that seemed alive.

Just as he held the fruit, Ginny's giant head swerved into view, and Harry clenched his eyes shut once more and took the largest bite of the fruit that he could. It tasted like a strange combination of vinegar, manure and soot, and Harry nearly choked trying to keep it down. Harry was barely able to swallow.

Then he felt Ginny bite into him.

Strangely, he felt no pain. Pain was something he'd always felt, even on the simplest of papercuts, and yet he felt no pain from being bitten into by the titanic basilisk form of Ginny Weasley. Perhaps, as he died he was spared from the initial pain?

Experimentally, Harry opened an eye. He saw Ginny's mouth wrapped around his body, clenched tightly, yet he did not see any blood. No, instead he saw his body flicker to and fro, lighting up in orange cinders.

Harry didn't know what was going on, but he knew that he wasn't dead. He moved his legs, and watched in awe as his body followed, going _through_ Ginny as if she were water. Eyes lit in glee, Harry ran for Tom.

Tom was holding his wand once more, staring at Harry in confusion. Then, anger and rage took hold on his aristocratic face. Tom point his wand forward, a set of quick jabs that Harry did not recognize from his classes, and bellowed out a word that held so much rage, so much _loathing_ that even Fawkes flew away, taking the Sorting Hat with him.

" _FIENDFYRE!"_

A great wave of blackened fire shot from the wand. It formed in the likeness of Ginny's basilisk form, and roared. Malice and hatred were all Harry could comprehend as the black flame consumed him. The flame ate the water that spilled from the faces of Salazar Slytherin, and the stone of the Chamber of Secrets alike.

It was like an instinct. Harry took a stance, his legs parting and his knees buckled, his hands outstretched and his eyes were shut. The fire barreled into his body, and once more Harry felt no pain.

He began to inhale, like he would if he was taking in a deep drink of pumpkin juice, and the black fire entered his body. Harry kept inhaling, the fire filling him and making him feel whole. Oddly, he felt a scream echo from his scar.

The fire continued to enter his body, until nothing was left. Tom was stuck there, his wand held limply, and his expression was slackened in incomprehension.

Harry felt better than he'd ever felt in his life. He laughed in childish glee, and punched the air.

And the air turned to fire.

From Harry's fist, pointed towards the ceiling, fire shot forth in a great arc. It was like the Fiendfyre curse that Tom used just a moment before. All consuming, all encompassing. Nothing escaped the path of the fire. Fawkes appeared suddenly, and seemed to guide to torrent of flames towards Tom. He screamed. It sounded similar to the scream that came from his scar, Harry noted as he stared at the inferno of his own making. Tom writhed and twisted in the flame, flailing and cursing.

And then he made no more noise.

Fawkes took that moment to dive into the blaze. The fire dimmed down, and from it Harry saw nothing. The diary was gone. Both Tom's wand and Harry's own were gone. All that was there was Fawkes, taking what seemed to be a bath in the ashes.

"H-Harry?"

Harry turned towards the sound of his name. Ginny Weasley stood there, leaned against a pillar, looking terrible. But she was alive, she was whole. Without thought for his safety he ran to her and she pulled him into a fierce hug.

* * *

 **A/N: So… Yeah. I've had this thing running around in my head for a little while. When Tsume Yuki started writing an OC-Self Insert in the One Piece world. I don't know why this came to me during that timeframe, but it seemed interesting.**

 **Here's my thought. The Devil's Fruit play a role in the Harry Potter world. There are no Animagi, and instead they are people that were lucky enough to find a Zoan fruit. Paramecia fruit pop up here and there, but Zoan are the most common. The rarest type of fruit is the Mythical Zoan, which Ginny was tricked into eating this chapter.**

 **Yet, there are myths and legends of a third type of fruit. The Logia. Stories told to children, so that they might dream for the future.**

 **I kept asking myself how this would work with Harry Potter. How could I get this into a story. I honestly don't have much time anymore to write, and I really shouldn't have done this. But I came up with a few scenario's that seemed like they would work for Harry acquiring a fruit. I struggled with which fruit he would eat, but decided that the Mera Mera no Mi was my best bet. It seems to work for the Gryffindor "hotheated" mindset (Punny, right?).**

 **I'm not certain how this will go forward, but I'll try and do** _ **something**_ **. I have a bad habit of writing out the start of a story and just stopping after that first chapter.**

 **If you liked this please Favorite/Follow and don't forget to Review.**


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